


On privilege and cappuccino

by BarkingBard



Series: Remembering the stars [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Anticipation, Café, M/M, Privilege, Reunion, the greek concept of beauty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarkingBard/pseuds/BarkingBard
Summary: The waiter tried to hurry him up, but Elio had paid the premium to sit at a table and there was no way he was moving until he had had coffee with ‘la muvi star’.
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: Remembering the stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906891
Comments: 25
Kudos: 37





	On privilege and cappuccino

Elio nursed the cappuccino and waited, he didn’t want to look anxious, but he was. He had arrived 45 minutes early to ensure he got a table in the busy café and he paid the premium to sit down to drink it, he wouldn’t normally bother. Over the top of his cup he watched and waited. A waiter lingered expecting him to leave. He cleared tables, and hurried up stragglers, but Elio actively ignored his gestures and comments.

He had chosen the perfect location. He could watch the street, the front door and the counter and knew it wouldn’t be long before Oliver, his Oliver, would appear.

The crowded sidewalk parted, and he knew why even before he saw the man himself. The gargantuan form was almost a head and shoulders over the throngs of shoppers, tourists, and office workers. Oliver walked as if in a dream oblivious to the allowance his stature and beauty afforded him by the general populace. The blonde stopped to take in the café signage, and finally made his way through the door.

He had barely changed in all these years. He gesticulated to Elio about another cup of coffee and he nodded in the affirmative. Elio pushed his cold cup away and the waiter almost tripped over himself to clear it away.

Next came Oliver’s elegant dance with a Nonna, who had arrived at the same time as him. From a distance Elio played out their conversation without hearing it. ‘No, no, Signora, please, you first.’ Her face flushed and she vigorously gestured and answered him, ‘No, no dear, I couldn’t inconvenience you.’

He flashed her a million-dollar smile and she insisted again. His looks always had an obvious effect on the young and old alike, both men and women, no one was immune to his wiles.

He moved in front of her and up to the counter and she caught a glance at his ass as he turned to face the cashier. Even after all this time, it amazed Elio how complete strangers responded to the American.

His enormous bulk was always allocated space, furniture and even people were shifted to accommodate the brash blonde. Place settings altered, plans reorganized, appointments rebooked, and he was always welcomed with open arms and given the best of everything.

They were all guilty of pandering to him; Elio’s parents, family and neighbors were all complicit. Still he couldn’t fully understand his magical pull. They couldn’t help but acquiesce to him, just to bask in those bright sharp golden features, ‘la muvi star’. Yes, he was beautiful, blonde, bronzed, clever and ‘good’ but the usual reaction was out of all proportion.

Elio had to fight tooth and nail to get a word in edgewise at the dinner table. He would be so anxious to fit himself into the tiny allotted gap, that all his words ran into themselves and became muddled and made them almost incomprehensible and he was left feeling like an idiot. But for Oliver it was different; spaces were opened into the conversations specifically for him to add his thoughts or his impression. He was allowed time to respond, his audience were delighted with every utterance, they all hung on his every word, like he was dishing out drops of ambrosia.

They were all in love with him and even though Elio fought his jealousy, he would still bristle at all the attention lavished on Oliver, he couldn’t help himself. That said, he would also get caught up with the desire to bask in the bright golden spotlight of his attention, even if it were only for a moment or a short six weeks.

This privileged position Oliver held was outrageous and he was mostly oblivious to it. Elio had tried to explain to him his otherworldly pull that his features caused. To this Oliver blushed and brushed it off as his exotic newness, but it was more than that: he moved through the world differently to others. Oliver could try and disregard Elio’s words, but he couldn’t refute the Greeks who had their ideals of beauty and perfection, which went on to set the European’s definition of the concept.

Oliver was the personification of these ideals and he was rewarded accordingly and disproportionately. His tall, strong, broad, athletic physique, even in middle age, was intimidating. He had silvered on the temples and he wore his shirts a little tighter around the waist, but with the years, he had grown to be even more resplendent and majestic, if that was at all possible.

***

Slinging his large rucksack under the table, Oliver slumped down into the seat opposite and for the first time Elio could see the tired rings around his eyes and the slight green pallor to his skin. Oliver looked as if he could collapse onto any surface large enough to accommodate him, and sleep for a week.

At first they didn’t speak. They just sat as Elio’s eyes searched the other man’s face. It was obvious that Oliver had dropped his public mask and he smiled at him in a way that was totally genuine. They were both relieved to be reunited.

Elio had a million questions running through his mind. _Why are you in Rome? How long will you stay?? Where are you staying?_

As he opened his mouth to speak, he was halted by the waiter returning. With a flourish obviously for Oliver, he delivered the coffees for them both and then placed a small plate containing three almond biscotti. With lightning speed Elio whisked away the first of the biscotti and promptly dunked it into his coffee before Oliver could protest or demand its return.

Oliver’s face melted and he erupted in a delighted chuckle. “You little brat…” he snarled, “This is why I bought three. You will never change!”

The tension between them lifted and they began to talk easily of everything and nothing as though they had never been apart. The two old friends spoke freely and deliberately. First of their families, mostly updating about Elio’s parents and their mutual friends. Once they exhausted that topic they finally reached the elephant in the room. “How long will you be in Rome?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver sighed “I hadn’t planned really anything, to be honest.”

“But aren’t you here of a conference or something?” Elio enquired.

“Nope, I booked a last-minute ticket and rang the office to take leave and here I am,” Oliver stated sounding a little bemused with his own unpredictable actions.

“So, when did you arrive?” Elio asked a little concerned.

“This morning, in fact, I came straight here from Fiumicino.”

“But you dropped off your luggage at your hotel?” Elio enquired, slightly shocked with Oliver’s revelation.

Oliver gestured at his rucksack and smiled nervously, “Actually, I was hoping you would be able to suggest somewhere.”

“Well, you can always stay with me,” Elio replied slightly awkwardly, half expecting him to say ‘no’.

“Perfect!”

***

They fell back into conversation until they finished their drinks and Elio ushered the large man out of the café. It only took a couple of minutes to cover the short distance back to his apartment and up the two flights of stairs.

Oliver stood awkwardly in the entry way and dropped his bag down to the floor with a heavy thud. Elio sensed him move in closer behind as he locked the door. By the time he turned, two massive hands were on him forcing him back against the old wooden door.

Oliver’s mouth crushed down on his own in a kiss that felt like it stopped time. The anticipation of this moment had been pulsing between them like an electrical spark since the café. Into Elio’s mouth Oliver groaned, “I’ve missed this!”

“This?” Elio asked innocently.

“Yes, you goose,” Oliver laughed, “I have missed this… Us,”

“How long are you staying this time?” Elio couldn’t hide the apprehension in his voice, as his mind flashed with visions of living without Oliver again.

Oliver waited a heartbeat before stating earnestly, “Until I tire of kissing you.”


End file.
